Red Pieces
by 1ncident
Summary: Red John is playing games again and Jane is taking it hard. Can Lisbon help him?  Jane Pain. Eventual Jisbon!
1. Chapter 1

Hello fellow Mentalist enthusiasts,

I have never ventured into the realm of publishing a fanfic before, though I can say with certainty (and a good helping of shame) that I have read more than my fair share. So, here I am, late at night, "giving back to the community" the only way I know how- with a dark tale about the beloved Patrick Jane.

P.S Though I've never gotten one before, I've heard reviews are awesome, so feel free (obligated, compelled, required **:) **) to submit one.

**Update: This is a revised first chapter- it does not contain any new info, just a few tweaks. Feel free to skip if you read the first version.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything except the fingers with which I type.**

"If you want me again, look for me under your bootsoles." – Walt Whitman

Lisbon turned on her heel, pivoting her body to better view the blond-haired, blue-eyed consultant who refused to leave her to her own devices. He truly was insufferable. Her face was just inches from his, despite their height difference. They stared at each other for a short time before she spoke.

"Jane, for the love of God," she huffed, "Please leave me alone. I have a small mountain of paperwork to sign and fill out, courtesy of you." She sighed audibly, crossing the short distance between the door-frame they were standing in and the disheveled desk in her office. She thought about sitting down and resuming her paperwork in an effort to ignore Jane, but he began speaking before she could put it into action.

Jane took a moment to put his thoughts in order before he started speaking. He could feel that he was on edge, and was worried that he wouldn't be able to handle it if Red John were to get away again. He had spent the better part of the last few years workign hard to catch him, and he was going to be damned if the CBI or Lisbon got in the way.

"Now Lisbon, let's be fair, none of this would have happened if you had trusted me when I told you he was right where I wanted him. I could have told you that he was going to run if he found out there was back-up." Jane allowed some of the tiredness he harbored so often to seep into his charismatic smile. He hoped that it would make Lisbon go easy on him. She had no right to be pissed at him. She had ruined his plan. If anyone should be pissed, it should be him. Not her. but he didn't feel like arguing about it with her- there was no way she could understand. No way for her to see it from his point of view.

Lisbon saw it all right. She could tell that his eyes didn't carry the smile that he was giving her, and she suddenly felt guilty about the whole ordeal. She studied his demeanor, hoping that he would reveal something other than the obvious. His rumpled suit was speckled with dirt, his eyes slightly blood shot. She gathered that his insomnia had flared up, most likely resulting in close to no restful sleep. Despite his consistent protests that he was well rested, his body betrayed his utterings. His hair helped to substantiate her supposition, and she noted that it was far more messy than the usual stylishly mussed look he went for.

"Look Jane, I'm sorry, I really am, I don't think anybody understands more than I do-" Lisbon had decided to let him off the hook. Even though she wanted to rip him a new one for causing such a problem with the investigation, she really did feel bad for him. However, if she was honest with herself, she would find that she wasn't even all that upset about the fact that he ruined the investigation. She was hurt that Jane felt the need to go behind the CBI's back- behind her back, in a desperate attempt to capture and kill Red John.

Jane felt his cheeks grow red with rage as her statement sunk in. He didn't see any way in which she could compare her situation to his. She didn't even have a situation. Oh, her mother died tragically and her father was a drunk- big whoop. Everyone's childhood sucks. He grew up with a gaggle of carnies who used him for his abilities, and milked them for all they were worth. It wasn't every day that a serial killer decides to murder a man's wife and child. That constituted a situation. That was something worth getting revenge about.

"Nobody understands how I am feeling. If you had just an inkling of the-" He stopped himself, aware of the remainder of the team, who had turned their heads at the loud interaction. He inhaled slowly; reminding himself that Lisbon would forever be Lisbon, always following the rules, and the damn protocol. If he let her inside his head, showed her even a glimpse of the things that went through his mind, she would have him off the case. And that could not happen, because he still had unfinished business.

"Look Jane, I know that you must not be feeling your best right now," she began, cautiously, "But I'm going to tell you, as your boss, to go home, get some rest, change your clothes and come back in tomorrow. The case will still be here then. " She gave him her most authoritative stare, knowing that he was likely to protest. She watched his eyes as they traveled from a smoldering, determined, and vengeful stare, to a resigned and pained one. She fought back the grimace of sympathy and pity that threatened to cross her face.

Instead of resisting her, Jane lowered his head a fraction, signifying defeat. Not willing to fight with Lisbon, he was, however, ambivalent about the thought of having to spend more time in his Malibu home. He knew that when he reached his former home a part of him would disappear, and that the rage within him -the disappointment of being _so close_- would flow out, would cause him to lash out, and then leave him, alone and hollow, to fester with his demons. He deserved it.

Lisbon sat down in her ergonomic desk chair, pretending to peruse the paperwork in from of her. In reality, she was allowing Jane to leave her office with a bit more grace than he exhibited while he was in there. Jane was never one to exhibit strong emotions, and his outbursts were concerning her, reminding her of the vulnerable state he was currently in- that this case was, in every sense of the word, the exception.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N:

Disclaimer: I do not own anything but the fingers with which I type.

A huge thank you goes out the all the people who reviewed or favorited this story! Thank you so much!

Now, without further ado, let me impart upon you the second chapter to this angsty fic.

Lisbon stared in confusion at the well-dressed figure retreating from her office. She had expected him to be less subdued; she had never seen him in such a state of inner turmoil. Lisbon understood that Jane was Jane, master of manipulation. She realized, but chose to ignore, the face that he kept up a façade whenever he was around anybody. She knew that deep down, he was in pain, feeling guilty for the death of his family, every second of everyday. But Jane was truly adept at the art of disguise, and he hid his self-imposed guilt and pain behind the guise of a reckless, petulant and childish character. Lisbon tried to put Jane out of her mind, telling herself that he would be okay- back to his normal self, in no time. But she also felt guilty, guilty that she tells him; "Next time, Jane. We'll get him next time." He would normally shake his head up and down, pretending to register her words. They both knew it did nothing for him. She watched as Jane waited for the elevator, stepping into it when it made its characteristic "ding". She tried to put herself in his shoes, but found herself becoming a touch frusturated at him- he wasn't the only one who had been struck by tragedy. She wiped the thought from her mind.

"He's grieving over the deaths of his wife and child- whose deaths he finds himself completely responsible- he has every right to be upset, every right to be in pain." She thought, remembering the death of her mother- her own chest cringed at the memory.

She looked up from her desk, wiping the dampness that had materialized on her face with the back of her hand. She felt a pang of emptiness when she looked over to Jane's couch only to find it empty- which was no surprise to her, but a bit distressing nonetheless. She hoped Jane wouldn't get himself into too much trouble.

Jane's blue Citroen flew down the California highways as he made his way to his Malibu home. The air in his car was stifling, but he refused to open up the window, preferring to breathe in the stale air of his own self-depreciating thoughts. He thought briefly that Lisbon would be upset at his current speed- almost 80 mph- but he forced the thought to vanish as quickly as it appeared. He toed the gas pedal down a bit further, feeling indifferent about the prospect of colliding with another car. Thoughts of Red John swirled in his mind, forcing him to relive the short moments he has spent with him.

_Flashback to the recent Red John case_

Red John was standing in the corner of the warehouse, his gloved hand palming the cool, grey concrete. He had advanced on him, the waistband of his pants a touch tighter with the bulge of the small metal gun that was tucked there. He was about to pull it out, he was ready to shoot him; hand already moving to grasp the gun when he heard a familiar voice behind him. He squeezed his eyes shut, hoping that he was delusional. Red John started laughing, laughing at him, at his futile attempt to catch him and get his revenge once and for all. Red John's hollow laugh filled the room as the CBI swarmed in, and then suddenly, he was gone. Lisbon had approached him, laid a hand on his shoulder. He didn't find it comforting.  
"Jane, you okay?" She asked, watching his red-rimmed eyes as they stared at her with a mixture of extreme hurt and anger. He turned away from her, shrugging her hand off his body. She rubbed her hand where the silken fabric of his suit had just been.

_End Flashback_

Jane's car pulled into the gravel driveway of his house. He turned off the engine, climbed out of the car, and shut the driver's side door with more force than was probably necessary. He pulled his keys out of his pocket, and the door the high-ceilinged foyer swung open, welcoming as ever. It was as if the house itself has no memory of the tragedy that occurred here. He crossed the foyer, and made the ascent to the master bedroom. Before opening the door to the suite, he leaned against the wall in the hallway, letting the cool, damp air seep into the fabric of his three-piece suit.

His hand found the knob to the door, and opened it slowly, forcing himself to relieve the moment that sent him on this wild goose chase for Red John's blood. He let his emotions overwhelm him, and he pushed his jacket off his back and onto the mahogany floor as the tears threatened to fall down his cheek. His eyes were glued to the bloody smile on the wall, and he smiled cruelly to himself as he lowered his gaze to the cot he usually laid in below the bloody signature. He charged across the room, kicking the cot to the side as his fist landed a blow to the wall, testing its integrity. He flexed his hand, grimacing at the pain before throwing it into the wall again. He screamed aloud in rage as his fist collided with the wall again. The paint began to crack, and the dusty drywall began to billow out from between the cracks. He let his fist rain down on the wall a few more times, before he finally collapsed against the wall from physical and emotional exhaustion. He examined his hand, smirking to himself as it throbbed and swelled. He prodded at the knuckles, knowing it wouldn't be a pretty sight tomorrow. He let his hand drop to the ground, listening to the thud it created in the otherwise silent house. He set the cot up again underneath the smile, reciting details of the case to himself as he fell into a fitful state of torturous sleep.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Thanks for the reviews I've gotten- they truly are the reason I'm updating so quickly!**

**Disclaimer: ownership != (Mentalist || characters); ownership = typing fingers; - for any of you fellow programming nerds out there . . .**

**And here is the third installment! **

**_Jane's House:_  
**

Jane cracked open one eye slowly, running his tongue over his dry, chapped lips. He moved to roll off the cot, and caught himself in a push-up like position. He immediately jerked away, his hand reminding himself of the beating he gave the wall a few hours earlier. He fell onto his back, looking at the ceiling as he willed the pain in his hand to lessen to a more manageable throb. It refused to do so. He glanced at it, and immediately thought of Lisbon, who would force him to the hospital, even though he hated them. Angry thoughts still traveled in the back of his mind, threatening to send him into another fit of rage. But that would be indulgent of him, and it would be more painful for him to have to go to work and pretend to be okay all day instead.

His hand was a wonderful array of the darker end of the rainbow spectrum; deep purples and blues marred his hand, with the occasional tinge of yellow. Dried blood lay crusted on his swollen, raw knuckles. He decided that the he had a few options. He could call in sick, but Lisbon would get suspicious, because he never did that. Usually Lisbon had to force him to go home if he were sick. So that option was out. The only other option he was prepared for was actually going to work. He stood up, straightening his knees and trying to work out the kinks in his neck and back. He slowly walked to the bathroom, acutely aware of the fact that he still had his worn brown loafers on and his rumpled, dirty suit. He stumbled into the bathroom, almost tripping over the small stair that led from the master bedroom into the bathroom. Turning on the sink with his good hand- luckily his right one- which hadn't thrown nearly as many punches, he looked at himself in the mirror. His hear was greasy and messy from his fitful sleep and lack of showering. The bags under his eyes had gotten no lighter, and the warm water had created a steam in the room such that when he looked in the mirror, all he could see was his fading reflection in the mirror.

"No," Jane thought to himself, "this isn't how it's supposed to be, I am supposed to be strong, cold-hearted, and calculating. I am only falling into Red John's traps if I allow myself to act without restriction." He ran his hand across his face, letting it tangle in his disheveled hair. He gingerly lowered his bruised hand under the warm water, ready to scrub the dried blood off of it- a task that he was not looking forward to. Running a small washcloth under the warm water and draping it over his injured hand, he considered what he would tell Lisbon and the team. They would be concerned if he were concentrating on masking his pain, as he would be too preoccupied with it to play his usual games with them. He could tell them that he dropped something on it, slammed it in the car door, but Lisbon knew he wasn't _that_ clumsy. The rest of the team might have taken him for his word, but he knew that Lisbon would have had none of it. Deciding that it was better that they didn't know, he banked on the hopes that a difficult and laborious task would have Lisbon and the rest of the team very busy, and keep their attention away from him. What they didn't know wouldn't hurt them.

Looking at himself just an hour later Jane had to agree he cleaned up well. A small bit of concealer he had found in an old toiletry bag from his psychic days hid the dark bags under his eyes and the bit to bruising on his right hand. His left hand however, was a different story; no amount of concealer could hide the ugly swelling and coloration of the backside of it. He left the bedroom without another glance at the fractured wall, and hurried down to the car, hoping to have enough time to stop at his favorite café for a nice cup of coffee for Lisbon and a pastry for himself. Before stopping at the café, however, Jane made a pit stop at the local drug store. He walked in quickly, making a beeline for the sports medicine aisle. He smirked to himself, thinking about the sport of punching walls- it certainly was exhausting. He walked down the aisle and picked up two compression wrap ACE bandages. He checked out quickly, leaving the automatic door to close in his wake.

Jane say in his car, trying to wrap his left hand with one of the compression wraps, he had to admit that it was harder with one hand than he had originally thought it to be. He finally got it right, and had it arranged just so the edge of the wrap both covered the extent of his bruises and also didn't extend much past the hem of his suit, so long as he didn't raise his arm up too much. While the wrap itself didn't help much with the pain, it certainly helped with its concealment; he was lucky that his skin tone was eerily similar to that of the bandage. Relatively satisfied with his disguise, he continued to the café and the CBI, hoping to arrive just a few moments late.

_**At the Office:**_

Lisbon arrived at the office ten minutes late the next day. She was surprised to see that a particular blond-haired consultant had yet to grace the team with his presence. She hoped he hadn't done anything stupid, and tried to call him on his cell. She pressed one on her phone, watching Jane's number flash on the screen as she speed-dialed him. After a few moments of waiting, she received no answer other than the tone of his voice message. She sat down on her couch, leaning into the pillow and smiling at the memories of Jane laying on it after hours. It wasn't often that she got to see him truly at peace, and when he got a few moments of coveted rest, she was happy for him. Standing up, she moved to her desk, ready to read the papers in her silver-wired file bin that sat in the corner of her desk. She sat down in the chair, crossing her pant-clad legs as she tapped her shoe on the leg of her desk.

Her head was buried in paper work when she heard the familiar creak of her door open, revealing Patrick Jane, her infamous consultant, and, dare she admit it, friend. He carried a cup of coffee for her in his right hand, and, by the looks of it, a pastry in his jacket pocket.

"Hey Jane, how are you," she asked, hoping for a good answer, but also testing his mood.

"Never fear, Lisbon, I'm doing just fine, how are you?" Jane replied. He was having second thoughts about bringing Lisbon coffee and speaking with her, she seemed to be very observant today. Hopefully she was ready to let him skip out and think on his couch; he could really use the familiar feeling of the supple leather against his skin and suit right about now.

"Oh I'm fine Jane, thanks for the coffee." She said, moving her head back towards her paperwork. She had half a mind to confront him about yesterday, but more likely than not, he would just clam up on her, and she would be in a worse mood for it, in addition to having a cranky consultant to handle. Luckily, he seemed better; rebounding immediately to his old Jane-like self, and Lisbon didn't think anything of it.

**A/N:**

**Thanks for reading! Hope you guys enjoyed it!**

**Will Lisbon realize what is wrong with Jane before the day is done? Will Jane hurt himself again? - All to be answered in the following chapters!  
**

**P. S: I have a rough idea of where this is going, but if any of you guys have a good idea or suggestion, I would love to hear from you! **

**(Seriously, I'm not just saying that- I need help, especially with case ideas . . .)  
**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N Sorry it took me so long to update! To put it succinctly, life got in the way- tons of schoolwork, fencing and the like. In any case, a big thanks to everyone who has reviewed, it really has put a smile on my face and has made my day! I hope this chapter, and the chapters to come, continue to live up to your expectations, and mine. It would be great if you could review this too, just to let me know how you think it's going.  
**

**Disclaimer: As always, I own NOTHING but the fingers with which I type and the mistakes that I make. But a girl can dream :)  
**

Chapter 4

Jane left Lisbon's office, grateful that she didn't try to talk to him about yesterday. He hoped she could just forget about it and they could move on. He moved his hand toward his jacket pocket and plucked the pastry out of the pocket, letting the bag it was in dangle from his fingertips. He let himself collapse onto the couch, and inhaled deeply, letting his body sink into the supple tan leather. He crossed his legs briefly, before deciding that he was in desperate need for a well-made cup of tea. He left his pastry on his barren desk- his best thoughts always occurred while in a supine position- and made his way to the kitchenette down the hall. A few shorts steps later and he found himself brewing a wonderful cup of earl grey with just a touch of milk, no sugar, and truly boiling water. He was careful of his hand- if he was too obvious about avoiding it he knew that Lisbon would notice something. He gingerly picked up the cup of tea with his right hand, though it hurt like hell, and padded back to the couch, sitting down slowly so as to not jostle the tea, or his hand, for that matter. Jane picked at his pastry, suddenly not as interested in it as he hoped he would be. He resigned himself to the act of thinking instead, and while far more painful and frustrating, perhaps it would take his mind off his hand while he sipped his cooling tea.

"Jane!" He heard shouted, and instantly knew it was Lisbon. Her voice sounded like peaches, sugary sweet and tangy. He could tell by the smack in her voice that she meant business, so he set down his tea and made his way over to her office.

Upon entering her office, Jane was assaulted by all things Lisbon. She was never one to bring her personal life into the workplace, but her office was homage to Lisbon. The dark robustness of her coffee, slightly sweetened with sugar, roamed with the air. The soft cinnamon scent of her body wash, or was it lotion, wafted into his nostrils, and he inhaled indulgently.

"Yes, my dear Lisbon," Jane said soothingly, trying to lace his voice with a saccharine sheen. Lisbon looked at him, her expression one of surprise and incredulousness at his words.

"Jane . . ." she started, trying to maintain the air of professionalism Jane always refuted. He looked at her, his impish grin in no way reflecting the way he felt inside. Lisbon shook her head slightly, deciding to continue regardless of her consultant's face. "Jane, " she said again, trying to re-orient herself around the conversation, "It looks like we have another Red John case on our hands, I'm sorry." He looked up at her then, his expression almost saying, _What are you sorry for?. _ He smiled slightly, though not a smile of happiness so much as a reassuring one that guaranteed he didn't find her at fault. His eyes turned cloudy, and the light that was usualy in them disappeared, and Lisbon could tell that he was being transported back to the scene of every Red John case he had ever seen. She was sure that he was seeing one in particular; a scene which at first seemed so familiar, but quickly turned into his worst nightmare.

_Patrick Jane had just returned from a long day in front of the camera, where he had deftly explained to the public the dangers of the serial killer Red John. He had channeled his "psychic" self, and used his powers to amaze the viewers, and illuminate the man, or monster, that was Red John. He rode home in his vintage blue Citroën, the one even his wife refused to get into, expecting to see her there. He hoped she was still awake, and that she was no longer upset at him for taking the interview about Red John. She always had qualms about his profession; and she found it especially low for him to be doing a "profile" of someone without their consent. He hoped that he would find her lounged on the couch with a glass of red wine of the coffee table, her bare feet curled up on the cushions as she waited for him. He wasn't surprised when he arrived home and found the front door unlocked, that was how she usually left it for him if she knew he was going to be home late. He walked into his foyer and locked the door behind him. He made his way up the stairs, the anticipation of seeing his wife and child forcing him to forget to toe off his shoes. Suddenly, even from the end of the hall, he could sense that something was wrong. He observed the note on the door and thought that maybe it was one from his daughter, telling him something about her day. He was wrong. The letter that was offensively taped to the door suddenly became clear as his body drew close enough to read it. He suddenly felt sick, and the blood fell from his face. He hand shook slightly as he turned the door knob, and what he found within that room was quite possibly one of the worst things a father and a husband could endure. _

As Jane quietly came out of his reverie, he couldn't help but notice that Lisbon had inches towards him, and was trying to get his attention. He stared at her blankly not quite ready to answer the questions bubbling at the tip of her tongue. He hand suddenly moved towards his, and she grasped it.

"Ah!" He gasped, pulling his hand out of hers. She immediately suspected something was wrong, and the arm of his jacket revealed his hand as he raised it away from her, pulling it into his chest. She only caught a glimpse of the bandages, but it was enough.

**A/N:**

**Okay, a bit of a cliffhanger, I will admit. The only reason I have left you like this is because a) I like the suspense, and I think it keeps you coming back, and b) I don't yet know how Lisbon will react to Jane . . . so this gives me a bit more time to sort it out.**

**If you are annoyed that I did this, well that is too bad for you, but I will update sometime soon (Promise!) and then you won't have to be so annoyed.  
**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Firstly, a special shout-out to my friend Jess, who is on a semester away, and though I won't admit it to her face, I do notice the lack of her presence in my school and social life (It has had a detrimental effect). Secondly, thankyouthankyouthankyou for all the nice reviews! There were a few reviews in particular that made me drop all my work (I have a personal essay to write . . . due tomorrow among a plethora of other things) and write this chapter. So thanks to those who motivated me, and know that more reviews = faster chapters! I hope this chapter lives up to expectations . . . it was fun to write. To all the Jane-pain fans out there, never fear! There is much more to come! **

Chapter 5

"It's only a bruise Lisbon, I promise. " Jane started, but quickly added "I just accidentally shut my car door on it, it's nothing-really. I'm right as rain, though I could go for another cup of tea if you would like to make me one, considering my hand and all." Jane tried to smile, but he knew he wasn't getting anywhere with Lisbon, and that she wasn't buying a word of it. She _knew _something was up, and if he was intentionally hurting himself, she didn't care if she had to give him a beating herself to get it out of him.

"Jane, please, for both out sakes, just tell me the truth. Did you do this to yourself?" She had allowed herself, no, she had forced herself, to stay calm while she was listening to Jane's excuses. She knew that her eyebrows had raised and her eyes had widened when he was telling her his "account" of the hand incident. She knew he was bullshitting. But more importantly, he knew that she knew he was bullshitting. It wasn't one of Jane's finest moments, and he opened and closed his mouth a few times, tyring to find the right words. He finally settled on a few.

"What do you think Lisbon?" He countered, not only wanting to avoid the question but also because he really did want to knew if she thought he was a "danger" to himself.

"I really don't know what to think, Jane. I know that these cases are always hard on you. I know that you have been known to self-destructive tendencies before-" she paused slightly, noting the wince on his face as she referenced his time spent in a mental facility. She took a breath and continued, "I also know that I happen to be one of the best detectives in the CBI," Jane gave a quick nod, assenting to her claim, "and I'm going to tell you that from my side of things, well, you know what it looks like. I think the better question here, Jane, is why you didn't tell me." Lisbon finished watching Jane closely as he absorbed the information.

She felt a little hurt that Jane hadn't told her that the effect of the Red John cases were worsening. As far as she knew, this was the first time something like this had ever happened, but she still felt slightly betrayed that he didn't trust her. She felt a flash of anger, and found that Jane was being hypocritical, because it was always Jane who was insisting how important it was that he trust her, making her do ridiculous things like trust-falls.

At the same time, she understood why he would want to keep this part of himself hidden away. It was probably the only part of his emotional state that he couldn't control, and, as a mentalist, one of his skills is being able to manipulate, control, if you will, a situation. And when it came to Red John, he could hardly control himself. Sometimes Lisbon thought he had OCD- and it would explain a lot. His tactile approach to investigations and his need to manipulate people. Jane needed to be in control, and everything had to be in it's proper place.

"Eh," was his reply. Lisbon looked at him incredulously, not even close to understanding how he could have such a nonchalant response. It was such a Jane thing to do, she thought, to force the seriousness out of any situation.

"What?" She said, still processing.

"Eh, I didn't mean to not tell you. I just didn't find it to be of any consequence or relevance, especially to the case. I can still work, I can still drive, it does not affect me. There is no reason why it should affect you, or the team. I assure that the injury my hand has incurred will not put you or the team in any unnecessary danger. And because it has no pertinence to the team, or the CBI in general, yes I kept it to myself. " Jane allowed some of the acidity he was trying to keep at bay to leak into his voice. He hoped it would deter Lisbon from asking any more silly questions.

"Jane," she breathed, hesitant. 'No', she thought, 'I will not let a consultant in my unit hurt himself in anyway, this is no time to get cowardly around Jane'. She continued "You think that I won't force you off this case if I have to, Jane? Is that what you think? Because if I think that you are in anyway not able to handle this case, all I have to do is _touch _the phone to Hightower's office, and she will insist that you take a leave of absence, pending the closing of this case. And that could take a long time Jane, you know it could." She was thinking about adding in the fact that he had been working on it for so long to no avail, that he must know how long it would take, and how much longer it would take without him. She watched as Jane bit his lip, and she suddenly felt bad for lashing out at him, but not bad enough to apologize. Jane had to hear it.

Jane decided to bite the bullet. It would probably be better for Lisbon, and himself, if he just told her what happened and assured her that it was a moment of insanity- one not to be repeated anytime soon. But that didn't mean he couldn't be a bit mean about it.

"Okay, Lisbon," he began. He was determined to make her feel bad for demanding so much of his private life from him. "You want to know what happened? Yes, I was driving back to my house in Malibu, yes, it is a long drive. No, I wasn't drinking, no I wasn't speeding- too much. Yes, I was feeling especially guilty that last night. Do you know why?" Jane didn't even wait to see her nod, he just continued, ignoring the fact that even Cho had looked up from his book.

"Do you know why, Lisbon? Because I do, I remember every second of everyday and my entire body just wants to collapse into itself because that would be a hell of a lot easier then dealing with you and the team everyday! And Lisbon, is it possible that I was feeling just a little upset that another year had gone by since the night they died and I had still not caught Red John? Yes! Lisbon, I would wager that it is! Because it is my fault they are dead and it is my fault that Red John got to them. It is my fault, and my fault alone that I wasn't there to protect them. I shouldn't be alive, Lisbon, don't you get it? Red John keeps me here, knowing that I wouldn't ever kill myself- that would just be a cop out, cowardly. So he keeps me here, and he torments me and subjects me to my own personal brand of hell, he refuses to let me catch him and so he refuses to let me die! So yes, Lisbon, I went home, I walked up the stairs and I threw my hand into the wall a few times too many. What of it?" Jane finished, breathing heavily. He calmed himself down, hyperaware of his surroundings, and his previous display.

Lisbon looked at him, wide eyed and worried. She was at a loss.

**A/N**

**If I may be so bold to say, and as the author I am, shit just got real. Let's have some fun with it!  
**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Sorry it's been so long! I've been in New Orleans visiting my Uncle- no free wifi in the hotel we stayed at. But here's a new chapter! I will admit, it is a bit of a filler chapter, but the good stuff is well on it's way(I promise). Hopefully I'll get another chapter up sometime this week. In fact, this is the first time I've actually started another chapter ahead of time- that's thanks to all your reviews! Hope you guys enjoy it!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything other than the fingers with which I type, and all the mistakes. **

Chapter 6

Lisbon realized that she had to handle the situation very carefully. Jane was evidently on edge, and was not exactly _fit _for duty.

"Jane, we're going to the hospital, you need to get that hand checked out. " Lisbon wasn't going to settle for any sort of compromise on Jane's part. If he wanted to remain on the case- on the team, then he would do as she asked. Nevertheless, she prepared herself for Jane's inevitable alternate suggestion.

'How about I just let you look at it Lisbon?" Jane's voice had lost all of it's acidity from his recent outburst. He really did hate hospitals, and he knew that his only chance of not landing in one was to show Lisbon that, minus his hand, he was totally fine and rational.

"Jane, no. It's obvious that it could be broken, at the very least sprained or badly bruised. This isn't a game, Jane, I'm not going to overlook this one."

"But Lis-bon," he whined. "You know how I hate hospitals. They smell like bleach and fruit cups. It's not at all very pleasant. Plus, they always make me take off my clothes and put on those itchy, scratchy gowns with no back. And that's just embarrassing." Lisbon fought the overwhelming urge to roll her eyes. Typical Jane. "Also, I've had hospital tea, and they never prepare it correctly, even when you ask them to politely. It never turns out right- must be something with the milk, it always seems to be a bit watery and odd tasting there. I'll suffer more in the hospital then I will out of it, so why make it worse, Teresa?" Jane knew that using her first name would either make or break his case, and he hoped that he was correct in deciding to use it. He was trying to guilt-trip her into letting him skip out on the whole hospital visit thing. It was his last hurrah, short of making a run for it because he had no other way to avoid the imminent hospital visit.

Lisbon sighed, and resolved to remain unwavering in her suggestion that Jane go to the hospital.

"Maybe you don't want to go, Jane, but if you want to have any part in this case, you _will_ have that hand checked out. If I have to drag you there myself, then I will. It will be done, Jane. "

"I might take you up on that offer, Lisbon." Jane smiled wickedly, resigning himself to the idea that if he were going to go to the hospital, he might as will have some fin with it. "I just want to make sure though, if you are dragging me, well, how exactly does that work out, logistically?" Lisbon blushed- knowing that Jane was trying imply something oddly lurid.

"Jane I'm going to go to the hospital now. You can either join me, or I can call an ambulance for you. If you don't accompany me, then know that I do not expect you on the CBI grounds until you get your hand checked out."

Jane huffed. "Well what are we doing standing here then?" He swept his arms towards the door in a grand gesture, signifying their departure. Lisbon strode out quickly, not looking back to check if Jane was following her. She knew he would.

The doors of the hospital lurched open as Lisbon and Jane walked in. Jane's nose immediately scrunched in displeasure as they made their way into the hospital. Lisbon walked to the desk of the emergency room, and was swiftly and smoothly told that someone would be along soon to help her. She thought to correct the nurse, but then decided that it didn't really matter. She took a seat next to Jane, who was idly looking at the ceiling.

"Well it's not very crowded, so hopefully we should be out of here soon." She said, not sure whether he heard her or not. She supposed it didn't matter much.

Jane continued to peruse the room with his eyes, paying little attention to Lisbon. She was getting quite frustrated with him, and was about to voice her feelings when a doctor came out, asking to see them. Jane's eyes suddenly snapped into focus, and he rose, thinking that the faster he moved, the sooner they could leave.

Her name was Dr. Weston, and she tried to conduct herself very professionally, despite Jane's continued attempts to embarrass the doctor into his premature departure from the hospital.

"And Mr. Jane," she probed "how exactly did you hurt your hand?'

"Ah," Jane started, forcing a smile to creep onto his face. "It was late, and I may have, ah, unintentionally provoked a fellow bar-goer at this bar I sometimes go to. He threw the first punch, missed, and I thought it would only be fair if I were allowed to return the gesture." Jane raised his hands slightly and shrugged his shoulders, as if to say 'What can you do?'. Dr. Weston looked at him skeptically, and reached for his hand so that she could have another glace at it.

She gingerly probed at the bruised knuckles and Jane was in too much pain, though he didn't show it, to study her face and divine her conclusion before she told it to him.

"Mr. Jane, I am fairly certain that you have sprained and or bruised your hand. It is possible that you have broken it. I would highly recommend that you get x-rays. I can make you an appointment in radiology in twenty minutes and we can go over the scans together if you would like?" She smiled genuinely, and Jane tried to muster up more than a grimace in response- she was still holding his injured hand in what felt like an iron grip.

"Schedule the x-rays, please." Lisbon said, taking hold of the situation. Dr. Weston looked from Lisbon to Jane, then back to Lisbon, she nodded once, and left. Lisbon had been sitting in a chair in the far corner of the small clinic room. Jane had sat on the examination desk, with his legs dangling over the edge. The hem of his pants rose up a bit, showing off his muddy brown blunnys and his navy striped socks. Her gaze moved upward, and she was able to catch Jane's protesting expression before he was able to verbalize it. "Jane, I could not care less about how much you hate the hospital, you are getting those x-rays. "

"Okay Lisbon." Jane acquiesced. Lisbon narrowed her eyes suspiciously, it wasn't like Jane to go down without a fight, but he looked so tired now that she saw him up close, and she felt bad for him. She wished she could just bring him home and put him into bed and – _No. _ She was not thinking about taking care of her consultant. She shook the thought from her head- her sole goal was to ensure that proper care was administered to Jane.

Just a few minutes later, Jane was taken to get an x-ray. Lisbon elected to stand outside the x-ray room, despite protests from the hospital staff. When they tried to move her to the waiting room, she flashed her badge, and they left her. Which was just as well, because she had some major Jane-related thought-and-feeling-ignoring to do.

A few gasps from Jane later, which she chocked up to the manipulation of his hand, a nurse came out and announced that they were finished. Jane came out not a moment later, his eyes a touch red. A technician came out and told them that if they waited for just a few more moments they would be right with them after the x-rays has finished developing.

Dr. Weston arrived in the room moments later, holding the yellow envelope that contained the x-rays. She took them out of the folder, and greeted Jane and Lisbon again as she did. Flipping on the backlight, she turned to them.

"Mr. Jane, I've taken a look at your x-rays. There's good news, and there's bad news."

**A/N:**

**So, a bit of a cliffhanger, but not really. I'd love some feedback on what you think about Jane's character. I can't decide if I'm portraying him correctly . . . However, I think Lisbon is pretty close( what do you think?) Also, who thinks I should start foreshadowing some Jisbon here? Or will it be unrequited love? (On Lisbon's part of course, she doesn't seem vulnerable nearly enough).**

**Reviews are awesome.  
**


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Hi there guys! If you're reading this, thanks for sticking with me! Sorry I haven't updated more quickly, I'm just starting the college process at my school, so I had to do a lot this week... Hopefully that means next week will be better, so I'll be able to update more. I'm not super happy with this chapter, and it's mostly a filler chapter. As we get further into the story we'll be getting a lot more thinking on both Jane and Lisbon's part. I'm going to say it now: there will be _eventual_ Jisbon, but not for a while. I think that both Jane and Lisbon have a lot to work through first, but it will come- I'm just as excited as you guys. Enjoy!  
**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.  
**

Chapter 7

Jane and Lisbon both drew in a breath as Dr. Weston spoke. "It would seem, Mr. Jane, that you have multiple hairline fractures in the first joints of your fingers. The good news is that there isn't much we can do for that, since they are so minor. The bad news is that your thumb seems to have been dislocated and then re-inserted improperly. We will need to reset that. Though it isn't normal that we would cast such an injury, considering the state of your hand as a whole, I would recommend it. " She finished, her eyes' searching Jane's face for any idea that he may have heard and processed what she said. Lisbon turned to him too, but Jane ignored them both. The silence hung over all of them, they were waiting for Jane. He suddenly took a deep breath and nodded.

"Fine. Whatever you need to do." Lisbon was shocked. Jane was finally acting like an adult. Jane, however, was thoroughly frustrated with the situation. He thought that he might as well do as Lisbon asked, because the more that he resisted, the higher the probability that Lisbon would kick him off his own family's case. _His case. _If he had to suffer through an itchy, hot cast in order to gain inside knowledge about the person who ruined his life as a husband and father, then he would. He probably deserved it, anyway.

"Alright then, usually we would splint it and have you come back in a few days or so when the swelling goes down, but it's been over a day anyway, so we can go ahead and splint it, and you can come in tomorrow afternoon provided that you take the painkillers and anti-inflammatory pills that I will prescribe you. Fair?" Jane nodded.

"Okay then, let me just get the proper supplies and we can get on with it." Dt Weston walked out of the exam room briefly, and when she returned her arms were laden with a not insignificant amount of gauze, ace bandages, and an odd white board. She sat down opposite Jane, and quickly took Jane's hand.

"This is going to hurt, Mr. Jane, prepare yourself. Miss- uh, Agent Lisbon, you may want to leave for this."

"No, but thank you, unless Jane wants me to leave, I'd rather stay." Lisbon certainly wasn't going to leave, even if Jane had wanted her to. They might be mad at each other, but that didn't mean she couldn't be there for him. She tried to search for his eyes, but his head was down, he was obviously somewhere else.

"Mr. Jane, I'm about to relocate your thumb, okay?" Jane nodded absentmindedly.

"On three then, one, two, three" At the number two, if one were looking closely, they would be able to see that Dr. Weston had moved her own elbow, preparing to move the joint back into place. And on three, a resounding twist and crack was heard- if one was listening closely. Mostly, though, the sound was drowned out by a loud and agonizing scream delivered by Jane. Lisbon cringed inwardly, she had her share of shoulder dislocations, and, especially if one wasn't on painkillers, it hurt like hell. Jane sat there, his shoulders tense with pain. His breathing, much to his own disappointment, was ragged, and he was struggling to get it under control.

Dr. Weston moved quickly after that. She took his hand again, molding the cotton-fluff covered board to his wrist, thumb and hand. Jane winced at the sudden movement and pressure, and a low hiss escaped his person.

"This is going to be the base of the splint. It's a cotton coated board, but at the center of it are multiple layers of fiberglass, not unlike the material a cast is made of. What's nice about this is that you can remove it. " She glanced up at Jane briefly to see if he cared. From the look on his face, she couldn't tell.

"Don't worry doctor, Jane won't be removing that case for anything short of showing, if that." She looked at Jane, challenging him to say otherwise, but he stayed quiet. Jane had half a mind to tell Lisbon off right then and there, but he thought better of it. Also, his hand was hurting quite a lot, so he wasn't sure he would be able to handle talking at the present.

Dr. Weston kept working, and she carefully wrapped the hand and thumb with compression wraps, making sure that she wrapped his fingers too.

"We're just about done here, Mr. Jane, I'm just going to write you a prescription for the pain now. I'd advise that you call and schedule and appointment with an orthopedist, or myself, to get that hand casted once the swelling has gone down."

Dr. Weston turned away and took out her prescription pad. Jane stood up, followed by Lisbon. Dr. Weston tried to hand the prescriptions to Jane, but he was already half-way out the door. Lisbon took it instead.

"Thank you for your time Doctor. Jane and I will see you soon." Lisbon caught the door handle just as it was about to close, Jane had already left, and Lisbon could only assume that he was going to be in a less than stellar mood. Oh well.

Lisbon finally caught up with Jane in the parking lot, even though she walked quickly for her stature, Jane could really move speedily when he wanted to. He was leaning against the car, looking up at the lights in the grey parking garage.

"So Lisbon . . . back to the office?" Jane asked hopefully, but he knew that it wasn't going to be the case. He was having a hard time faking his indifference, both to the pain radiating from his arm- emanating from his thumb, and the fact that he really, really wanted to get back to the office. Even he was pretty sure he wasn't being convincing enough.

"Not a chance, Jane. We are going home. You're going to take a few of those nifty pain pills, and you're going to sleep. Really sleep, Jane. Don't try to tell me you've been sleeping, I know you haven't. Now, we can go to my apartment, or I can bring you to your house." Lisbon looked on, and meant to continue, but couldn't. She had never been to Jane's home before. A thousand questions started racing through her head, but only one was important- _Was the testament to his family's murder still there, on that bedroom wall?_

**A/N**

**So that's Chapter 7. While I kind of skipped out on anything other than plot in this chapter, the next chapter is gonna be pretty big, I think. Jane and Lisbon have to go to his house . . . maybe, and Jane has to get to the office for an update on the Red John case . . . will he have Lisbon's blessing? I'm not sure. (actually- I haven't thought that far)  
**


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: I aplogize with all myheart for the delay with this chapter. It was one of the hardest ones I've had to write and I couldn't decide where exactly I wanted this story to go. Additionally, life in general got in the way, and I've had a lot of stuff that I've had to get done. It's no excuse, but it is the truth. Good news is that now I'm on Spring break (Yay!) so I will be writing more and updating with far more frequency. **

**To those of you who wanted Jisbon- please do not lose interest! I truly want/hope that this will end up a Jisbon fic. Problem is, I think that both Jane and Theresa have a lot to work through before they can consider a real relationship. (Though that does not rule out a one night stand . . . . foreshadowing? I don't even know.) **

**Disclaimer: I own nothing and all mistakes are mine.**

**Enjoy!  
**

Chapter 8

Jane grinned lewdly, waggling his eyebrows at Lisbon. "Now, Lisbon, I would never peg you for the kind of woman to take advantage of a man when he's under the influence of, ah- um, painkillers. Are you trying to seduce me?" Jane giggled quietly to himself, obviously finding the suggestion particularly absurd.

"Jane, I will ask you again, my place or yours?" Lisbon asked, trying to keep the acidity of her temper from leaking into her voice, the man was damned near stoned after all.

"Lisbonnn! Oh, Lis-bonn!"

"Yes Jane? I'm standing right next to you, don't get yourself too excited." She was beginning to wonder whether he had taken too many of those pills.

"Why can't I take a nap on the couch back at the CBI? I promise I'll be good. Fingers crossed." Jane gave her his best puppy dog eyes but it seemed that in his impaired state the translation of intention into action was more than a bit muddled.

"Jane, knowing you-"

"Please Lisbon," Jane drawled, "I'll just close my eyes and be quiet. I only sleep well on _that_ couch."

"No Jane." Lisbon replied, a small smile gracing her features.

"Well," Jane began, thankfully letting the CBI alternative drop, "If we go to your place do I get to sleep in your bed? . . . Do your pillows smell like cinnamon Lisbon? You smell like cinnamon, Lisbon. Do you remember that time I was blind Lisbon?" Lisbon nodded her head slowly, relishing each moment of _Jane: Uncensored_. "Yeah, when I felt your face, I smelled you, too. It was like all my other senses were heightened-"

"So you've mentioned . . ." Lisbon cut him off, grinning at his ramblings. "Your place then, Jane?" Lisbon probed curiously, part of her hoping he would want to go there, if only so that she could make sure he was okay there. 'It couldn't be healthy for anyone', she thought. Jane sobered a bit as he processed the question.

"Nah, I don't wanna go there. I want to go to your place. It's so very Lisbon-y there."

Lisbon sighed; so much for getting Jane out of her hair. "Alright Jane, but promise me you won't go snooping if I leave you alone for more than ten minutes." Lisbon looked at him pointedly.

"Cross my heart and hope to die, Lisbon. Scout's honor." Jane said somberly, suddenly intensely serious. Lisbon couldn't decide if it was sincere. She nodded her head slowly, and ushered him into the car, closing the passenger door and getting into her own seat.

"Jane, you were never a boy scout . . ." She mumbled, but Jane was too out of it to hear her.

Fifteen minutes and an uncharacteristically quiet car ride later, Lisbon turned to Jane, whose face was pressed up against the glass, his breath creating small blobs of fog on the tempered glass of the window.

"Wakey, wakey, Jane" She cooed, lightly shaking his shoulder. Jane's eyes fluttered open slowly, and they moved to find her face. He looked at her with sleep addled eyes and mumbled, "Are we there yet?" His voice was low and husky and Lisbon smiled at his overall dazed demeanor.

"Yes, Jane, we're here. Now can you stand properly or am I going to have to get someone to haul your ass up to my apartment?" Lisbon asked, only half jokingly.

"Very funny Lisbon," Jane began, as he maneuvered his less than fully cooperative legs out of the vehicle and onto the narrow sidewalk. He shut the door with a grandiose gesture and then ushered Lisbon ahead, indicating for her to lead the way.

Jane only stumbled up the stairs once after he insisted they take them instead of the elevator, citing that it was the more "heart healthy choice- and you like your heart, don't you, Lisbon?" Lisbon rolled her eyes and replied "Whatever you like, Jane." She stuffed her key into the lock and the door swung open. She used her arms to give Jane an "after-you" sort of gesture. He smiled widely, and took a few steps into the apartment.

"I like what you've done with the place, Lisbon." jane glanced around, taking in her apartment. It wasn't everyday he was allowed passage into Lisbon's haüs of Lisbon.

"Uh, Jane? I haven't done anything." She said, just a touch confused."

"Ah, well, anyway I like it. Whatever it is you have done, I like it." Jane waved her comment away as if it were a fly in the breeze, paying it no attention.

"Oh-kayy then, Jane, let's get you resting. Couch okay?" She glanced at him and saw his nod of assent. "Stay here Jane," she said, "I'm just going to grab some extra pillows an blankets."

"And when thou doust returns't?" He said in a sing-song voice, poorly imitating some sort of Shakespearian well, something.

"Uhh, you'll sleep, and I'll hang around for a little while. Cho can fax me over my paperwork." She called back as she took to the stairs. "Certainly can't leave you alone in this state," she murmured to herself.

Five minutes later and Lisbon was shocked to find that Jane might actually follow orders for once. God knows they weren't hers, but she would take what she could get- baby steps. Of course, it was all too good to be true; as soon as she turned her back a drugged Jane called out to her.

"Lissbonn . . ." He whined. "I'm not tired anymore. I can't sleep."

"Jane, I just watched you pass out during a 15 minute car ride, don't try to tell me you're not tired. I would tape you to this couch if I thought it would make you go to sleep, trust me."

Jane obviously clouded brain was slowly working its way through the fog, because the next thing he said actually made some sort of sense. In a way that only statements made by Jane can make sense, of course. "Exactly, Lisbon," he slurred slightly, "I _already slept,_ so I'm not tired anymore, in fact, I'm good as new. You know me, I never need much sleep to keep me going. Can't we just forget about this whole thing and head on over to the CBI? You know you want to. "

Lisbon sighed inwardly, and didn't even grant Jane with a response.

"Lisbon?" He called out softly. A bit louder this time, "Lisbonn?"

"What Jane?" came her slightly snappy reply.

"Could you make me a cup of tea-" He started, about to tell her _exactly_ how to go about making it, as if she didn't already know about his peculiar tea-drinking habits.

"Jane, for the love of God, go to sleep."

**A/N:**

**So now you've read this- hopefully it wasn't atrocious. I wanted to do something with Jane drugged up, simply because this is going to be a bit of an emotional rollercoaster for everyone involved, so I though that I might as well take advantage of potential comedy/happiness while I can. I apologize if it's too OOC. I did write quite a bit of it on a red-eye home from Utah . . . just putting that out there. I know it's a bit short, but I think it's building up to something much longer (hopefully). Please review, it really does keep me motivated and it helps for me to get feedback on my writing.  
**


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: Sorry it's been so long, I have no other excuse other than the fact that I'm lazy and beginning the college process. Yuck. Enjoy!**

**Sorry if the formatting is a bit odd, I tried something new. Most of this chapter is also pretty Lisbon-centered. Reviews are awesome, so I'd love it if you left me one!  
**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing- sadly.**

**Chapter 9**

Lisbon made it a point to ignore Jane for the remainder of the afternoon, and for once, it seemed to work. After a few minutes of his calling and whining, he seemed to settle down and - dare

she say- fall asleep. She knew it wouldn't last for long, but she was glad that Jane was finally able to get some sleep. He looked so tired lately, even though he would deny it until he delivered his

dying breath. His green-blue eyes that usually twinkled with humor were duller, though she chalked most of that up to the fact that a certain _anniversary _had recently passed. He didn't seem to

glow much anymore- he used to give off an overwhelming aura of brightness. Even his hair seemed flatter (_oh did she want to run her hands through it, but she would never admit to that)_ , and

his usual annoying and obnoxious mannerisms seemed nothing short of forced now that she thought about it. After Jane fell asleep, Lisbon amused herself by being monumentally unproductive for

the rest of the day, despite her best, and most valiant efforts. She would begin her paperwork determinedly, only to find her thoughts drifting to a certain blond-haired drugged-up consultant

presently sleeping on her couch. After shaking her head in the hopes of obliterating the thought, she would find herself losing her resolve. She would push herself out of her chair and pad

sock-footed into her living room. Once there, she would peer around the corner, catching a glimpse of the man. She couldn't help but smile. It was a wonderful change of pace to see him so

innocent and vulnerable. Usually he hid behind his charming persona and manipulative abilities. But now he lay before her, as close to an open book as he would ever be to her. It was odd to feel a

sense of affection towards him, especially after all the stunts that he liked to pull and his generally irritating habit of always being right.

She found herself increasingly frustrated with herself- after repeating the cycle of beginning work only to find herself spying on Jane sleeping, she finally relented. Trying to do work was

pointless, and she had just managed to waste two and a half hours. She quietly crossed her apartment and headed upstairs to her bedroom. When she got there, she crossed the room in five swift

steps, picked up the book on her nightstand, and promptly left. She walked down the stairs, wincing at every creak because she knew Jane was such a light sleeper. Seemingly at peace with the

fact that there was no way for her to get anything done if she was not in sight of Jane, she shrugged her shoulders decided to go with it. She entered her living room quietly, taking a moment to

listen to Jane's slow and heavy breathing. Satisfied that he was really asleep, she made herself comfortable in the large lounge chair next to the Jane-ridden couch. Lisbon sat cross-legged in the

chair, ready to indulge in a little midday reading. Usually she didn't allow herself to do that, not only because she rarely took sick days, but also because she found reading to be something that

usually made her want to fell asleep.

After almost 30 minutes of attempting to read with Jane in the vicinity _(good god, he was an annoying distraction even when he was unconscious) _Lisbon was ready to give up. It was impossible-

she had only read 5 pages, though she had probably reread each sentence about six time apiece. Each time she would finish a line or two, she would be compelled to glance up and look at Jane-

just for a moment, or two. Lisbon set her jaw and tried to refuse each time, but she was no match for a sleeping Jane. She set herself to reading her book- determined to finish at least one

chapter, then at least she could tell Jane she had done something- because he would ask. Sure enough, no less than five minutes later, she found herself starting at him.

"Lisbon, stop watching me sleep. It's creepy" The voice was so quiet she barely even heard it, but when she went in for a double-take, she saw two bleary sleep-addled eyes staring back at her.

Lisbon heard herself reply. "Uhh, Jane, stop flattering yourself, I wasn't watching you sleep, I was reading." She held up her book as proof, trying to stave off the blush that was creeping into her

face.

"Ah, I see. You were reading." Jane looked at her funnily and pushed himself up. He winced slightly when his realized the pressure he was putting on his splinted hand.

Lisbon wasn't sure whether to act really concerned or kind of aloof. She settled for aloof; Jane was a big boy, after all. "Is your hand okay?"

"Uh, yeah, I guess I just forgot about it." Jane brought his hand to his face and studied it closely, flexing some of the bruised sausages that used to be fingers. Jane peeled back some of the

bandages, looking at his immobile wrist and thumb before shrugging noncommittally.

"How long was I out for?" He looked at her curiously, he had this odd feeling that there was something he had missed. What, he wasn't sure of . . . yet.

"About three hours," She replied, glancing at her watch. Jane nodded slowly, thinking god knows what. Lisbon winced internally when she saw his hand- it was much more purple and bruised

looking under the harsh light she had used for 'reading'.

"So . . ." she started, not really sure what to do. She hoped Jane would finish her sentence. It was something he seemed to be fond of ding when they were at the office.

Jane said nothing, but Lisbon breathed out a small sigh of relief when she watched him get up, stretch a bit, and head towards the kitchen. Of course he wanted tea. Lisbon stood against the cool

tile of her counter as she watched Jane maneuver himself around the kitchen as if it were his own. She had considered offering to help him, but he seemed to be doing pretty well on his own, and

she didn't want to baby him.

Jane felt her eyes on his back, but didn't say anything. He didn't really mind. "Lisbon, you want some tea?" He wondered if she would take him up of his offer, he was hoping she would. Unless

she had used the kitchen while he was sleeping- which there was no evidence of- she hadn't eaten or drank anything other than coffee so far today.

"Sure, Jane. Thanks." Jane nodded slowly, and took out another cup for her. He didn't even ask how she liked her tea- somehow he must have already known.

Jane didn't feel the need to ask her how she liked her tea. She took it plain- obviously. Just like her coffee, black and unsweetened. It was so Lisbon- who was honenst and straightforward and

had no use for watering things down or sugarcoating them to make them more palatable.

He handed her a cup of tea first, and he raised his own glass, sipping the hot concoction slowly. He watched Lisbon take a sip.

Lisbon took a sip of her tea, breathing in the steamy aroma and savoring the taste. What exactly it was, she wasn't sure. Perhaps it was a sort of herbal tea, though she tasted some forign,

maybe floral note. Her eyes fluttered closed as she took another sip. The combination of reading and tea drinking made her tired. In fact, she was finding it increasingly hard to keep her eyes

open. She looked up at Jane for confirmation of what he'd done to her. She couldn't believe it. She didn't know why.

"I'm sorry, Lisbon" He said, looking away.

**A/N**

**So there's chapter 9! For those of who may not have gotten it- Jane drugged her. Why? I'm not sure yet. Cliffhanger!**

**Thanks for reading and please review! **

**P.S For the people who may be very surprised by this- Don't be. Did you really think Jane was going to get better that quickly?  
**


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: An insane amount of time has passed since I updated last. I don't really have any excuses, but I'll go ahead and throw a few of my reasons for practically abandoning this story out there. Maybe you guys won't be so upset . . . So I totally understand if you guys go ahead to read this story and have no idea what's going on. I totally understand if you guys get to read this story and decide to drop it because it takes too much work to reread it or catch up. **

**I was touring colleges in Scotland and California and I've been in Indonesia for a month and I've had to do college stuff so I haven't really had a lot of time for writing things that I like to write. Honestly, I was ready to abandon this story- not because it has no potential, but because it's going to be a lot of work- but I got a review the other day and it reminded me of how much I liked writing this story, so I wrote another chapter, because I love you guys (and your reviews).**

**In other news . . . I changed my name from Usetace Brown to 1ncident. Sorry if there was/ is any confusion.**

However, here is another chapter! Onward with Red Pieces!

Previously in Red Pieces: Jane's hand is splinted and he has just drugged Lisbon. We weren't sure why last chapter, but this chapter clears it up a bit. Not completely, but a bit.

Jisbon is on the way! It would seem that I have finally become okay with the idea that this story is going to get LONG. Like potentially really really long. I hope you guys stick with me.

Chapter 10

Patrick Jane couldn't deny that he felt guilty for drugging Theresa Lisbon. He also couldn't deny that even he was unable to anticipate a situation like the one he was in- honestly, drugging Lisbon was at the very bottom (okay, not the very bottom) of his list of things to do, it truly was a spur of the moment type thing. But the situation remained, poor Lisbon lay on the floor, unconscious, and her teacup laid cracked and its contents spilled on the counter, dripping down over the edge. Looking back, even Jane thought that his "I'm harmless and drugged up" act may have been a bit much, but if Lisbon had known that he wasn't drugged up, she never would have been able to fully relax.

The part of Jane that was admittedly less guilty feeling thought he deserved a medal. The amount of restraint it took to pretend to sleep while Lisbon was over there, "reading," as she put it. More like fawning over him- _wait, was Lisbon, Theresa Lisbon, CBI Senior Agent, fawning over me?_ Jane couldn't wait to tease her about it. He would cherish the look on her face when she realized that he was awake, and moreover, aware that she was staring at him. Another pang of guilt shot through him as he realized that an opportunity to mock Lisbon could be a long time coming- it was unlikely that she would forgive him for this little stunt of his.

But lying there, looking harmless and vulnerable, Jane was unable to look at Lisbon without this tiny shred of a thought entering his mind- _Was he sure that he was willing to give up Lisbon, the CBI, and the team for Red John? Was this another ploy of Red John's? To get him to willingly leave everything that has made him- dare he think it- happy, so that he might get vengeance? _Jane shook the thought off; it was too late now, anyway. At the present, Jane had larger, more pressing problems to deal with. The size of the aforementioned problem? Perhaps about 5' 2" and 120 lbs, if he were being generous.

It quickly became apparent to Jane that for all of his mental acuity he obviously suffered bouts of a lack of foresight. One such occasion might have been ten minutes ago. Jane looked at his splinted hand and flexed his fingers; it resulted in a sad attempt at a fist. He looked down at Lisbon and wondered _how in the hell _he was going to maneuver her into a position that wasn't lying facedown on a tile floor in the middle of the kitchen. At first he tried to pick her up, but his left hand wasn't having any of that.

After a medley of attempts that involved pulling, pushing and grabbing Jane finally found a way to move her. He bent down so he was sitting on his knees and he slowly rolled Lisbon until she was lying on his lap. He then moved her so that the bulk of her weight was on his right shoulder. Grabbing her waist tightly with his right hand, he carried her _like a sack of potatoes, _he thought, to the couch that he had been sleeping on not 30 minutes ago. With Lisbon on the couch, the tea cleaned up, and all signs of his being there erased, Jane checked the time on his phone one final time before closing the door behind him.

Once outside, Jane stopped and flipped open his phone. He reread the text that was sent to him from an unknown number just before he left the hospital.

_How's your hand, Patrick?_

_I heard you had a rough night. _

_The CBI is a bit dreary without you._

_I'm sure we can find a way to spice it up, don't you?_

_Your Friend,_

_RJ_

Jane jogged to the nearest main street and hailed a cab. He told the cabbie in a breathy voice, "I need to get to the California Bureau of Investigation now- there's a hundred dollar bill in it for you if we get there in less than 10 minutes."

Once he was in the car, Jane sent two texts.

One to Grace at the CBI

_Grace-_

_Unsafe at CBI- get everyone out. _

_Will be there in 10._

_Jane._

And one to the unknown number

_Where are you, you coward?_

_I will find you. _

Jane was surprised to get a text back almost immediately-

_What's wrong, Patrick, not in the mood _

_for a game of Hide and Seek?_

_See you soon._

_Yours,_

_RJ_

"Gah!" Jane exclaimed as he slammed his hand against the seat in front of him. His hand began to throb again, but he made no note of it. As the cab lurched to a stop in traffic, Jane slapped money onto his seat and left the cab running. Only about 5 blocks from the CBI, Jane figured it was a two minute sprint.

* * *

**At the CBI**

Grace's phone pinged suddenly, and the front of her phone lit up with Jane's text to her.

"Huh, guys, did you get a text from Jane? I thought Lisbon took him to her place for the day." Cho and Rigsby both shrugged noncommittally. Grace opened up the text and gasped.

"Rigsby! Cho! Jane's text says that it's unsafe at the CBI and that we need to get out! We need to notify everyone at the CBI-"

Cho cut her off before she could finish, "Grace, don't listen to him. Lisbon told me earlier when I faxed her the paperwork that Jane was high as a kite and sleeping like a baby. If he just woke up, then he's probably still under the influence of drugs. " Cho gave her a slight knowing smile before returning to his latest novel. Rigsby smiled widely at Grace before looking at the clock- it was after 1pm.

"I'm starved, guys. Want to eat?"

Grace texted a quick reply to Jane.

_Alright, Jane . . .  
_

* * *

**Meanwhile, back with Jane, on the street . . .**

Jane was running as quickly as he could to the CBI, his hand was aching and his heart was pounding but he refused to let his stride slow. Rounding the last corner and arriving at the gates to the CBI, his phone pinged with a text from Grace and then began to ring. Jane answered the call without getting at chance to read the text.

"Red John! Where are you?" Jane spoke angrily into the phone, and was greeted by a monotonous voice.

"Patrick, so nice to see that you could join us here, at the CBI. Wouldn't want you to miss out on the fun and games, now would we? Where is dear Lisbon, by the way? Did you not tell her you were coming?"

Jane's heart froze at that comment. He had left Lisbon alone, unconscious, and unprotected in her apartment. What had he done?

"No," Jane responded coolly, "Lisbon doesn't know I'm here. Where are you? What do you want?" Jane was getting increasingly aggravated.

"Tick, tock, Patrick. You're running out of time. You should stop asking silly questions and start thinking about why you're here. "

Suddenly it all made sense. Red John led him away from Lisbon, he brought him to the CBI. _Red John is playing a game, he wants to see if I can figure it out. Tick tock . . . what does that mean?_

Jane dropped his phone onto the pavement. He ran past the CBI security booth. _Tick tock, _he thought, _there must be a timer involved . . . he wants me here, standing outside the CBI, where everyone is . . . where the case files are . . . without Lisbon . . . he wants to spice something up . . ._

Just as Jane pieced it together, a loud explosion rang out in the CBI building, and the halls were suddenly full of smoke and fire. Jane watched as the windows of the CBI became filled with flames. Everything turned red as another explosion sounded, this time at the entrance of the CBI. Jane was flung back onto the pavement, where he fell unconscious.

**A/N:**

**Is Lisbon okay? Is Jane okay? How about the team? What is Red John doing? All this and more in the coming chapters . . .**

**So that's the end of chapter 10. I hope you guys liked it. All typos are mine and mine alone and I am very sorry for them. This chapter was a bit hard to write. But, on the bright side, now that I've written it, I can foresee the next few chapters- which should mean quicker updates. Feedback is very much appreciated. I wasn't sure how to format the texts . . . so I went with centered and italicized. **


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